Chapter 8 A Dull Sunday & an Exciting Monday
A Dull Sunday & an Exciting Monday
Sunday they attended church separately. The only contact between them was a quick greeting outside the church, then they were whisked away to their respective relations’ homes.
Darcy spent the afternoon avoiding his aunt and thinking of Elizabeth.
The lady herself was not so lucky as to be left alone.
After a satisfying meal, Charlotte took Elizabeth to the garden and insisted on knowing all.
“Eliza, you must tell me what has happened! It is clear there is something between you and Mr. Darcy!”
“Is it?”
Charlotte gave her a look. “Do not be coy with me, Eliza Bennet. I have known you too long to be put off by such maneuvers.”
Elizabeth chuckled. “Very well. Mr. Darcy has asked to court me.”
“To court you?”
“Yes.”
“And you have agreed.”
“Yes.”
Charlotte looked both befuddled and vindicated, a combination that amused Elizabeth greatly.
“Are you terribly pleased to be proved correct in your belief of the gentleman’s intentions?”
Charlotte smiled a little smugly and lifted her chin. “I am not displeased.”
Elizabeth laughed. “A great understatement, I believe.”
Charlotte took her hand eagerly. “You must tell me all, Eliza! What did he say? How did you respond? I confess I feared you might let your impulsiveness get the better of you and refuse him.”
Elizabeth flushed a little and looked down. “You know me too well, I think. Had he asked me before my conversation with Colonel Fitzwilliam, I believe I would have refused him.”
“So did your dislike rest so strongly on Mr. Wickham’s report? Or is knowing he is in your power an attractive enough inducement?”
Elizabeth shifted uncomfortably. “It was many things, truly. Yes, I had thought him a villain by Mr. Wickham’s information, which led me to realize my own vanity and folly.
That in turn made me realize how much my dislike of Mr. Darcy was founded on his having insulted me at the assembly.
” She sighed. “Coming face to face with one’s greatest shortcomings is not an enjoyable pastime. It is humbling.”
Charlotte squeezed her hand, remembering her friend’s very great distress the day of her discovery. “So you came to see him a different light, then?”
“Not immediately, but I am beginning to. At first, I thought I would merely thank him for his kindness to me that evening and be on my way. But he does seem to have sincere feelings for me, though I find them difficult to credit.”
“Why should you? Is it yourself you believe undesirable? Or is it the gentleman’s feelings that are lacking?”
“Both, I think.” She spoke quietly, her eyes on the flowers growing next to the bench.
“You know what my opinion of Mr. Darcy was. I did not think him capable of love. Affection perhaps, if the lady were of the right circles and suitably wealthy, but passionate, consuming love? I thought not.” She flushed a little.
“I am learning I am mistaken in that regard.”
“And of yourself?” Charlotte asked gently.
“I have not found myself so very lacking, but I did not think I would catch the eye of one so high. It is simply something I never imagined. I thought I would marry a man of my father’s standing, or possibly someone like my Uncle Gardiner.
I never truly thought a gentleman of Mr. Darcy’s position and wealth would look my way. ”
“You forgot to mention his intelligence and handsome countenance,” Charlotte added with a teasing smile.
“And we mustn’t forget his very broad shoulders,” added Elizabeth, quickly entering into her friend’s playful mood.
“He has no need to pad his jackets.”
“And he does have a skilled tailor.”
“Have you seen him ride? He has a very fine seat.”
Elizabeth could not contain her laughter, and soon Charlotte joined her, giggling like girls on the bench in the garden.
“Well, I am glad for you, Eliza. He will make a very fine husband, I think.”
“I am not engaged yet.”
“But surely you will be? Did he not tell you his intentions are honorable?”
“He did, but I asked him to progress slowly.”
Charlotte nodded. “That is sensible. It will give you time to adjust to the idea now that you have secured him.”
“I have not secured him, Charlotte!”
“Have you not?” She gave Elizabeth such a look that her friend blushed and looked away.
“Charlotte, must you always know best?” she said in exasperation.
Charlotte smiled proudly. “I am glad you are coming to see the wisdom of heeding my advice.”
Elizabeth laughed lightly and leaned her shoulder into her friend, nearly knocking her off the bench. “How lucky for me to have an older, wiser friend to advise me.”
“You laugh now, Eliza, but remember who was right about your Mr. Darcy.”
“He is not my—” she could not finish the sentence before Charlotte bumped her shoulder in return. Elizabeth had to scramble to avoid falling off the bench. “Charlotte!”
“If you do not wish to be treated like a ninny, do not say such ridiculous things!”
Elizabeth could only laugh and shake her head.
Monday morning, Elizabeth put on her yellow walking gown and a blonde straw bonnet with a periwinkle ribbon. It was simple and springlike, and she thought the color became her well. The yellow gown brought out the gold flecks in her brown eyes, and the bonnet was one of her more comfortable ones.
She stopped at the kitchen for Mrs. Hopkins muffins and a fruit tart, then skipped away to the grove.
She was surprised at how happy she was to be meeting Mr. Darcy.
Had she not detested the man less than a week ago?
But he was so very attentive, and so kind to her, and so endearingly awkward when he was nervous that she could not help but warm to him.
Her not insignificant guilt at having been so rude to him for so long played a role in her desire to please him now, though she did not care to examine it too closely.
She had not liked him before, and she had been silly and vain, but that was all to be forgot.
It was in the past. Now he was courting her, and she was enjoying the experience.
She would not poke at it needlessly until she drove herself mad. It was a pointless exercise.
She entered the grove on quiet feet and saw him standing under a tree some distance away from her.
She could not help but smile at the sight.
She was not immune to masculine beauty and he was a very attractive man.
Possibly the most attractive man she had ever seen.
And he wished to court her! She could admit, when she allowed herself to think on it, that her initial offense at his insult had much to do with her immediate attraction to him at the assembly.
That she had found his features handsome and his figure athletic was salt in the wound when he found her decidedly less so.
If Mr. Collins had said he found her merely tolerable, she would not have cared two figs!
But to be called tolerable by a man such as Mr. Darcy…
It had stung. And immediately destroyed any attraction she had felt for him.
But now, ah now! How different things were!
She was able to allow her attraction free rein.
She was sensible of the possibility that she might only like Mr. Darcy now because he had disliked her in the beginning of their acquaintance, and his current infatuation somehow proved her desirability and provided vindication for her wounded vanity.
But surely she was not so vain as to allow such a feeling to persist into allowing a courtship!
She had felt flattered at first, but now she was coming to know him as he truly was, without her wounded pride bleeding between them.
It was not just the balm to her vanity she desired, but to truly know him.
She was now within twenty feet of him, but he did not seem to hear her approach.
Seized by a sudden fit of mischievousness, she set down her small basket and tiptoed to where he stood.
He was taller than her, so it would be difficult, but she thought she might be able to reach around him and cover his eyes as she and her sisters often did.
Alas, she was just reaching up past his shoulders when Mr. Darcy turned around quickly, his right arm on his hip, and clipped Elizabeth in the ribs, sending her toppling over sideways.
“Oof!” She was sprawled on the ground of the grove, her shawl pooled at her wrists and the lower half of her calves on display.
“Elizabeth! Are you hurt?” Mr. Darcy quickly knelt down beside her and touched her arm gently. “Forgive me. I did not see you.”
Elizabeth looked up at the worried expression on Mr. Darcy’s face and burst out laughing. “Forgive me, sir. It was my own fault. I should not have attempted to surprise you.”
He looked adorably awkward, all concern and confusion, so she presented him with her hand and said, “Will you help me up?”
“Of course!” He reddened at not having thought to offer the service before and attempted to make up for it by picking up the trailing end of her shawl and placing it back around her shoulder. He smiled grimly when it was firmly in place and she shook her head at him.
“You must not let it spoil your morning, Mr. Darcy. Truly, I am perfectly well. It is not the first time I have taken a tumble in the grass and I doubt it shall be the last.”
He reddened at the thought her words conjured and looked even more awkward than he had before.
Deciding to give him a moment to compose himself, Elizabeth went to retrieve the basket she had left under a neighboring tree. “Shall we walk to the stream?”
“There is an old folly on the hill yonder I thought you might wish to see. If you do not mind a longer walk, that is?”
“That sounds lovely!” She smiled brightly and asked him to lead the way.